


Time To Aim Your Arrows (At the Sun)

by smalltrolven



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Season 8, episode coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smalltrolven/pseuds/smalltrolven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to burgers and Sam’s intuition, a light at the end of the tunnel, more-than-sex on the side of the road coda to 8.16.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time To Aim Your Arrows (At the Sun)

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through episode 8.16 “Remember The Titans”.
> 
> Tagged by ratherastory with the prompt “take it as it comes” for saltburnporn. Title inspired by the lyrics to The Doors song, “Take It As It Comes”
> 
> Disclaimer: Not my characters, only my words.

Sam hears his brother order him in that bossy big-brother voice to “eat his burger” and sees that according to that sideways grin that Dean flashes him, absolutely everything is going to be alright as far as Dean’s concerned.  He doesn’t protest, just smiles back and settles back against the door.  He quickly unwraps the thing and settles down to consuming the whole greasy salty mess. 

Sam muses to himself that Dean making him eat a burger is one of his many ways of taking care of him.  So is telling him that he’s going to die from something normal like a heart attack and live a long life.  Filled with prostate exams and colonoscopies.  And last time they’d talked he’d said something about Viagra.  Apparently Dean thinks he’s going to fall apart when he gets old or he has a really skewed way of looking at old age based on watching too many T.V. advertisements.  All he knows is that Dean’s going to do all that right alongside him whether he knows it or not.

“I’m not dying of a heart attack, and neither are you.” Sam says as he chews through the first bite of his burger.

“Oh really, how do you know?”  Dean asks, stealing a couple of still hot fries from Sam’s full container.

Sam chews thoughtfully for a second as if he’s debating whether to really answer or not, “Intuition.”

“Dude, that’s like the third time you’ve mentioned having intuition, there something you’re not telling me?” Dean asks, suddenly really suspicious since he knows that Sam’s been hiding something important from him.

Sam gives him a look that says _really you have to ask if I’m hiding something from you?_ , but then he answers, “Yeah, uh, I guess I’ve been noticing ever since I did the first trial, my natural intuition is getting stronger or something.”

“Like how do you mean?” Dean takes a last swig of soda, sucking on the straw until the air bubbles are too noisy, trying not to worry too much.

“Well, most recently the hunch that Artemis was in love with Prometheus.” Sam says matter-of-factly, pointing to the arrow that Artemis left behind when she disappeared with Zeus’ body that’s lying on the dashboard.

“Oh, I thought that was just part of one of the myths you’ve got memorized.”

“No it just kind of came to me when I needed it.” Sam kind of shrugs, like he’s trying to convince himself that it’s no big deal.

“So us not dying of heart attacks, did that just come to you too? Or is it just wishful thinking, your best-case-scenario?” Dean asks, pushing to clarify whether his little brother’s turned into a psychic again.

“Maybe, I don’t know.  But my best-case-scenario is us going in for our colonoscopy appointments and prostate exams together and sharing one Viagra prescription.”  Sam answers, trying to use all of Dean’s little future pronouncements against him.

Dean hears all those digs in there piled together, so Sam’s been listening to him after all, “That so?”

“Yeah.” Sam says, challenging Dean to say otherwise.

“What you think I’m gonna need Viagra?” Dean asks, concentrating on the thing he hopes will be most distracting from what Sam’s trying to really talk about.

“Dean, it’s not necessarily a bad thing.” Sam protests, feeling the conversation diverting off just like Dean wants it to, away from what’s really important.

“I know. Just hard to imagine us actually getting to be that old.” Dean says, without really thinking about it.

“Well I don’t want to unless you do it with me you know?” Sam insists, trying to keep the triumph out of his voice.

“This your light at the end of the tunnel thing again?” Dean sighs, looking out the windshield.

“Yes, and it’s **_our_** light.” Sam insists even more strongly, willing Dean to get this.  Knowing with his intuition that if Dean doesn’t, then this whole trial thing is not going to end well for either of them.

“Yeah I know Sammy.” Dean says, sounding wholly unconvincing even to himself.

They’re silent then, conversation not seeming necessary for the next part of the drive.  Dean puts on The Doors first album and sings along to a lot of the songs.  Sam listens to his brother singing in that endearing, somewhat annoying, slightly-off-key voice he’s been hearing his whole life and is struck with one of those bizarre moments of happiness.  His belly is full from a good burger, they saved a kid’s life, survived a tangle with Zeus, he finally got some of his worries about the trials off his chest and they’re driving back home.  **_Home!_** He’s feeling so good about everything right now, sure he’s worried, and yeah it’s irrational to be happy, but he’ll take it when it comes to him.  Like the song says it’s time to aim some arrows at the sun, take the chance on happiness that’s right here in the car with him.

When Sam starts singing along lustily with “Take It As It Comes” Dean looks over at him in surprise because Sam singing? That hasn’t happened since, well he can’t even remember when.  He loves hearing Sam’s voice, and he sounds almost happy which makes it even better. 

That low timbre does something to him in the slower, sexier part of the song about “go real slow, you like it more and more.”  Slowly a tight hot ball of lust unravels in his belly and now all he can think about is how they’d had sex this morning and it had been slow, really slow.  And slow was good sometimes, better than good.  The echoes of all the touch and giving and taking still resonating deep in his skin.  He feels himself going hard just at the thought of Sam bent over the hood of the Impala in the moonlight.  He’d be pumping into him slowly, just keeping Sam on the edge for as long as he could, making it so good for both of them.

The song ends and goes into the more morose “The End” and neither of them feel like singing along to that.  Dean looks over at Sam to catch his eye, kind of hoping that he’ll notice that he’s feeling turned on, “You’re feeling pretty good about something if you’re singing.”

“Yeah, I am.  Not sure why really, but I…well I’m happy.”

“Happy?”  With all they’ve got hanging over them, Sam’s happy for some reason? He’ll never understand this kid as long as he lives.

“I know it’s irrational, but just everything’s good right now, in this moment, and I’m choosing to be happy.”

“Uh, okay then.”

“Aren’t you? Seems like it.” Sam looks pointedly at Dean’s crotch where he’s not even trying to cover up how hard he is.

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’d call it happy exactly.  Just liking hearing you sing, thinking about this morning.”

Sam instantly knows he’s talking about the sex they’d had this morning, how slow and easy and mind-blowingly good it had been, “What about it, uh specifically?”

Dean hesitates, not sure why, but always feeling like he has to hold back on talking about their sex life directly, “How slow it was.”

Sam hears Dean’s hesitation and wants to reward him for actually giving him an answer, so he lowers his voice to the register that he knows really gets Dean going, “That was good, doing it like that, we need to do it like that more often.”

“Cut it out.” Dean hisses.

“What?” Sam pretends to not know what he’s talking about, but he knows how Dean gets when he uses this tone of voice.

“That voice, you’re doing it on purpose.” Dean says in frustration.

“Yeah maybe I am. What’re you going to do about it?” Sam asks challengingly, hoping Dean will take him up on it. Staring at his brother’s face, watching that beautiful look of desire make him flush from the neck up.

And oh yeah it worked, the car is suddenly lurching off the gravel edge of the road into a pullout covered in thick trees.  Dean’s on him before the car’s even stopped completely, tearing off his seatbelt and across the seat in Sam’s space before he’s even started to get his off.  Dean reaches up and pulls Sam’s face close, brushing their lips together slowly, teasing out the feeling until Sam can swear there’s an actual spark drawing out between them when he finally pulls back. 

“Always talking Sammy, that’s how you get what you want though isn’t it?” Dean murmurs into the space between their mouths, working his hands through Sam’s hair, holding him so tight.

”Yeah whatever works.” Answers Sam, not thinking too clearly anymore, but wanting to make this something besides another quick fuck on the side of the road. Firmly palming over Dean’s hardness, squeezing the head through his jeans Sam whispers, “Tell me Dean, what was it that got you so hard?”

Dean lets out a groan and flops his head back on the seat back.  “Just thinking about this morning, like I said and how good it was going so slow.”

“What else?” Sam keeps up the steady pressure of stroking and squeezing, not letting Dean squirm away from his arms.

“Pictured doing you over the hood of the car nice and slow, how your ass would look in the moonlight, moving and clenching around me.” Dean barely manages to answer.

Now it’s Sam’s turn to groan, his head falls back against the window and Dean sees his chance, surging in to lick and bite his way up to his favorite spot to mark Sam.  Right behind Sam’s ear, he gets the skin between his teeth and sucks hard, pulling all the blood up to heat that one place.  Licking to soothe the pain away and keep teasing Sam until he can’t take it anymore.

Sam’s melted into a pile of goo from all that, but he’s barely able to ask, “You wanna?”

As if Dean’s going to say anything other than yes to a proposition like that. But still, hearing Sam ask in that low sultry voice is a guaranteed carbon-fiber firm Yes with a capital Y.  Dean’s answer to the question is to reach over and open the car door, pushing Sam out ahead of him into the cool night. He quickly grabs the lube out of the glove compartment on his way out of the car.  It’s stopped raining for now, and the clouds are scudding away from covering the almost full moon above the trees.  The water droplets are silvery and shivering from the leaves in a light breeze. Sam pulls him up and out of the car and encloses him in a full body hug.

Hands are roaming all over, everywhere they can reach and there’s no hurry or rush as they kiss, not like usual when they stop on the road like this. Just because they both said they wanted slow.  So Sam takes his time kissing Dean deeply, carefully, more completely, like there’s no ending place they’re striving to get to.  He feels Dean relax into him more and more and then takes advantage, turning Dean around so he’s leaning up against Sam’s front.  Dean’s head falls back against Sam’s shoulder and he nuzzles up to reach his lips towards Sam’s neck.  Sam pinches and thumbs at both of Dean’s nipples until they’re hard and he’s squirming against him, his hips starting up that unconscious rhythmic search for friction. 

Dean reaches back with one hand and caresses Sam’s hard-on through his jeans, slowly moving and pressing up and down his length.  They’re leaned up against the Impala’s open door, feeling each other up like a couple of teenagers who just couldn’t wait to get their hand on each other; and why can’t it always be perfect like this?

Finally Dean can’t last against the urge to do more than kiss, so he steps away from the heat of Sam’s body enclosing him.  He looks his brother up and down, the heated trace of his glance making Sam shiver even under all those layers. They’re both panting with that headlong rush into letting desire just take them over.  He unbuckles his belt and reaches down to undo Sam’s deciding that while he’s down there he might as well move things along just a little. 

He sits back and perches on the edge of the Impala’s front seat and pulls Sam towards him, undoing the belt buckle and top button of his jeans.  He runs his hands up Sam’s torso as far as he can reach, flicking at Sam’s nipples just to tease him back.  Sam’s hips sway a little towards him in response and Dean moves his hands around to grab at Sam’s ass, bringing him in a step closer.  He brings his face up close and inhales his brother’s scent, a lingering smell of them from this morning, soap, detergent and that musky salty sweetness that’s just Sam.  He swirls his tongue around Sam’s belly button in a lazy spiral in and out.

Sam complains, “Thought we said slow, doesn’t mean teasing Dean.”

“I’m getting there, just hold on.  You said that, you wanted slow, I’m giving you slow.” Dean answers, cupping Sam between the legs, feeling the softness of his balls, the indent of his hole, moving up to the hardness of his cock.  He pulls the zipper down fraction by fraction, sensing through Sam’s boxers the pulsing strength trying to escape.  Finally he drags the jeans and boxers all the way down to Sam’s knees and just looks, sees his brother there before him, achingly hard, cock jutting out so ready, so perfect.  He licks wetly with his tongue up and down once then pulls back to blow a little soft breath all the way along the length.  It twitches and jumps in response as if searching for the heat of Dean’s mouth.  He chuckles and sucks the head in, licking softly, deftly in the slit and all around the underside.

Sam moans and puts his hands on the top of Dean’s head, holding it lightly and pulsing forward a little with his hips, just a small amount like he just can’t help it. 

Dean groans in response, the feeling of his mouth being taken and filled like this by his brother’s beautiful cock never fails to flip a switch in Dean.  Wanting to please and tease and make Sam feel so good, forget everything else, just ride on the pleasure as long as he can stretch it out for them.  Dean looks up through his eyelashes catching Sam’s eyes that widen, darkened completely, filled with a happy consuming lust that Sam hardly ever shows him. 

He groans again at the sight of it knowing that this is just what Sam wanted too, sucking him slowly letting the vibration continue up and down Sam’s length until he’s squirming so much he pushes Dean off. 

“Stop, want to wait, ‘til you’re in me.” Sam says with a hoarse breathiness from holding himself back.

“Kay Sammy, whatever you want.  You want to take those off all the way or leave ‘em like that?” Dean asks, pulling on Sam’s jeans and looking up into his face, loving how debauched and just _taken_ he looks already.

Sam doesn’t answer just kicks off his boots and pulls his boxers and jeans all the way off, tossing them in an untidy heap next to Dean’s feet.  He walks around to the front of the Impala and leans over the front, putting his forearms on the hood and spreading his legs wide, pushing his ass up into the cool night air.  He meets Dean’s gaze through the windshield, watching his jaw drop in lust-filled amazement at the picture his brother is making. 

It’s everything Dean wants, right there, and the best thing is knowing how much Sam wants it too.  There will never be anything better than this heady combination of his partner/brother/lover/whatever _(everything)_ , plus his car and the free night air.  Dean gets up, undoes his jeans the rest of the way and takes his own cock out, stroking it slowly as he walks over behind Sam.  He slots himself between Sam’s widespread legs, palming his ass from the top of his crack, all the way down to Sam’s hole.  He pets around it with two fingers, feeling it contract and flutter a little at the contact.  He pushes in with one dry finger to see how much fingering Sam will need to be ready. 

“Still so tight Sam, even after this morning.” Dean says, admiring, as if he’s somehow proud.  He squirts a little of the lube into the palm of his hand and then rubs his hands together quickly to heat it up a little.  It’s cold enough out here as it is, he coats two fingers in the slightly warmed lube and presses them into Sam. 

His brother arches his back so damn beautifully, like a giant cat rubbing off against the hood of his car. “Love how you move Sammy, when you’ve got my fingers in you.”

He starts slowly fucking Sam on his two fingers, scissoring them a little, moving them in and out until Sam starts pushing himself back onto Dean’s hand, like he’s trying to engulf his whole hand.  Dean adds a third finger and Sam slows down his presses until he relaxes enough, then again Sam’s making these small little hip circles, drawing Dean’s fingers in over and over.  He hears Sam’s breathing change and knows he’s ready.  Quickly removing his fingers he slicks up his cock with the remaining lube and positions himself behind Sam.

“Dean, please, get in me.  I feel so empty.” Sam begs quietly, like he’s ashamed of begging, but can’t help it and knows exactly what it’ll do to Dean to hear it.

“Gonna give it to you, Sammy. Open for me now,” Dean presses his hand down on Sam’s lower back as he enters him, filling up the empty place with himself again.  Sam’s whole body stops and then Dean feels it opening slowly all around him, welcoming him in, back into the comfort of where they belong together. 

“Dean, please just…” Sam says near incoherent with how good it feels, needing Dean so much and anticipating getting it just exactly how he wants it

Dean pulls Sam’s hips in towards his own, bringing them together with a hard slap.  He stops and corkscrews himself a little further into Sam, teasing them both with the delicious swirling friction.  He’s grazing Sam’s prostate and touching inside where the usual thrusting usually doesn’t hit.  Sam’s moans turns into whimpers of he can’t tell what, not pain, joy maybe, pleasure probably, something good.  “Feel good yet Sammy?”

His hands scrambling for purchase on the slick hood of the car, Sam breathes out, “So good, just like that, never stop.”

Dean soothes his hands up Sam’s back, twining them through his long hair, petting at the tender nape of his neck. “Never little brother, always want to be in you, just like this.”

They don’t usually do a lot of talking during sex, but this is different somehow tonight.  Maybe it’s because they both mentioned the wanting to go slow thing, or the whole near-death thing with saving Prometheus and then the Trials hanging over their heads, all of it has been distracting, but this is now, and Dean’s not thinking about any of that other stuff at the moment.  It’s just down to him making Sam stay here, out of the worry, in this zone of pleasure they make between them. 

That he can do.  This he can do like nobody else can.  This is how he can help. 

Giving Sam enough of this kind of sex so that there’s no way he’s got enough time to obsess and worry over all those other things in their life that they can’t ever change.

Sam can barely hear that Dean is saying something under his breath in rhythm with his slow thrusts, it’s almost singing but not quite.  Sam finally makes out the words: “ _Take it easy baby, take it as it comes_ ” and then he realizes that Dean’s timing his pushes into and out of Sam in time with the song they were just singing together.  Realizing that makes his heart flip over in a happy somersault making him gasp out loud with pleasure. He does feel good now, better than good, his intuition was right to push for this.  Taking the chance, shooting that arrow into the sun, what the hell it just might work for once.  And what do you know it did.

He loves Dean’s steady presence behind him, filling him up, taking him over, makes him feel so open and so safe all at the same time.  The stolid bulk of his brother pushing him down into the cool metal hood until he can barely get a full breath is all he needs right now, that inexorable no-choices to be made inevitable cascade of pleasure and feeling and connection.  There’s nothing but this moment, this long drawn out **_now_** where they’re joined and together and working to completion.  No lies, nothing held back, just moving in sync for the purpose of pleasure. 

The slow, precise, thrusting rhythm of Dean gets him into this state, there’s nothing else that ever can.  It’s so regular, he can count on it, depend upon it, and make it the only thing.  Dean’s always there, in him, on him, around him.  Not letting him pull into himself, try to disappear.  His brother keeps him here in the now, not worrying about what’s to come, but being good, and happy with Dean, loving every second of having this man be there for him. Always, like always.  Like all the Viagra and prostate exams he can envision in their future.

Sam’s eyes open wide as he comes dreaming of that future, pulling Dean along with him.  All he can see over the black expanse of the Impala’s hood is that arrow, Artemis’ arrow on the dashboard, glinting in the moonlight.  He’s coming all over the front grille and Dean’s filling him up deep inside and it’s good, so good he can taste it.  He swears he can taste the love they’ve just created here, it’s flooding all his senses, and it’s too much. 

Sam collapses forward and Dean flops on top of him.  Sam’s nowhere, floating in-between in that post-pleasure haze, twilight of sensation and deep bared emotions.  He sees the connection suddenly, lit up before him as bright as that arrow, the point he was trying to make from their earlier conversation, “That right there.  There’s your light at the end of the tunnel Dean.”

Dean pulls out slowly, running his hands down Sam’s back and cupping his ass firmly, holding on bruise tight with all ten fingers, “Yeah Sammy, I get you now.” He says in a voice that shakes with barely held-in emotion.  “I do.”

Sam almost bursts into tears at that, hearing his brother finally accept it, that they have a future together. He prays so hard, squeezing his eyes tight, silently praying to whoever will listen, “ _please please let him really believe it this time_ , _he needs it so much, it’s all I want_ ”

Dean feels Sam tense beneath him and strokes his back again, getting Sam to arch up with the pleasure of that touch after so much sensation.  “C’mon, I’m getting cold being bare-assed out here.”

Sam sees a few drops of blood fall from his face onto the hood as he slowly stands up.  He wipes them off and swipes at his nose, licking it all off before turning to Dean, hoping there’s no evidence to ruin this moment.  Dean pulls him in for a kiss and his stomach sinks, knowing that Dean will taste the blood in his mouth.

Dean breaks off the kiss suddenly, “You bite your lip or something? I’m tasting blood and I’m pretty sure it’s not me.” Dean asks, a little worried that Sam’s gotten hurt somehow.

“Guess I must have just now, kinda lost track though you know.” Sam trails off, not wanting to go into details that might trip him up, he doesn’t want Dean to have anything more to worry about.

Dean dives back in to lick the taste of blood out of Sam’s mouth until it’s all gone and all he can taste is sweet pure Sam.  “There, that’s better right?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Sam answers, wishing with everything he has that it was the truth this time.

They pull their clothes back on quickly, cleaning up a little with the fast-food napkins left from their burger run.  Soon they’re back on the highway heading back home.  The Doors album is over, so now Dean’s got one of his night driving tapes in that feature complicated songs he knows so well that they don’t have to be turned up too loud.

“We’ll be home pretty soon Sammy, couple hours maybe, c’mon get some rest.” Dean says, pulling Sam over so he’ll rest his head on his shoulder and hopefully conk out for a while.

Sam sinks into him slowly, relaxing into the heat and familiar scent of his brother’s neck, and says drowsily, “Really like the sound of that, home.”

“Me too. ‘bout time.” Dean answers quietly, leaving it at that for now.

**_~FIN~_ **


End file.
